


Gigil

by Val_Creative



Series: No Angst June/Domestic Fluff Month [19]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alien Flora & Fauna, Alien Planet, Bisexual Han Solo, Developing Relationship, During Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, POV Han Solo, Romance, Science Fiction, Semi-Public Sex, X-Wing(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Luke and Han have a fling while they’re helping Leia and the Rebel Alliance. Or maybe Han just really likes him.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Series: No Angst June/Domestic Fluff Month [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769860
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	Gigil

**Author's Note:**

> THESE TWO ARE FUN. I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SKYSOLO IN A WHILE. PLEASE ENJOY.
> 
> _"Gigil" (adj): the overwhelming feeling that comes over us when we see something cute_

*

19\. Forgetting Something

Han considers himself an adventurous man.

Sex is just another factor of his life, and he's not ashamed of much. Two of the deck officers avert their eyes when Han sends a wink in their direction. Men, women, everyone else… it doesn't matter to Han. Princess Leia turned him down for sharing a bunk.

_Her loss._

They've transferred onto the Liintaar Station from the Echo Base. Han basks in the warm weather, poking his head out and walking among the green and nearly translucent rows of featherferns. Whatever this place was before, it's now a military base as far as he knows. The _usual_. Plenty of soldiers and rebels and technicians wander the grounds, distracted with their commands.

Han's distracted too. He has a whole hundred and twenty pounds of Luke Skywalker crowding his lap.

Riding Han's dick like Luke _trained_ for this.

" _Kriffing_ —" Han swears, breathing hard. He grips tightly onto Luke's naked, sweaty hips, pulling him down and keeping Luke right above him. "Quit squirming," he complains, groaning when Luke clenches, " _unnhh_ , _hnn_ , you're gonna hit—the controls—"

Luke's head tilts back.

_"Aah!"_

The noise of slick-squelching and Luke's high-pitched, ragged moaning fills the hanger. Neither of them can see the other station workers or droids passing below. Or _be seen_ from this height. The pilot's seat of the X-Wing Starfighter barely fits Han.

Han feels Luke's shaky fingers in his hair, tugging and winding around.

"You're doing good, kid," he whispers, pressing his lips to Luke's mouth dropping open into acceptance.

The tip of Luke's tongue lathers over Han's lower lip.

One of Han's hands gently fondles over the other man's buttocks. Han's forefinger digs in, feeling along for Luke's stretched rim and Han's own cock buried fully inside him. Luke's so _drenched-wet_ from the excess of lubricant Han prepped him with.

"So good—"

"Han!" Luke yelps, his eyelids fluttering when a grinning, flush-faced Han thrusts.

"Almost there, Luke—"

He moves Luke's fingers downwards, clasping loosely onto his dick. Encouraging Luke to touch himself and reach that pleasure along with Han. "Show me—" Han whispers again, panting. He slams repeatedly up against Luke's ass, grinding and holding him still for a moment until the other man whines. _"Show me how you handle the controls_ _—"_

"Han, _nnh_ —"

Luke does it anyway, sliding his hand down, going faster. He bounces again, gasping and rocking himself.

Han thought about a gag earlier, maybe taking off his belt, when a smug Luke refused to keep the volume down. Like the mouthy little shit he is. Thank the stars, Han went _against_ his initial thought process. It's too good hearing Luke getting fucked. It's just _too damn good_ hearing Luke cry out while getting Han inside him and knowing _anyone_ below can hear them in the X-Wing as well.

"Oh, hell—" Han feels his balls stiffen, pressing himself deeper into Luke. _"Hell_ _—"_

"Han, the briefing—"

_"Keep going—"_

Luke slows his own thrusts, his eyes widening. His golden bangs stick up with dampness. "Han—"

_"Luke—"_

"Princess Leia— _uuh, Hnngn_ _—_ Han—she wants us there—"

"She can wait," Han snaps, losing the pleasure's edge already. He groans in frustration when Luke eases off of him. Stars-damn him. Luke mutters an apology, smiling and kissing Han's jaw, grabbing onto his uniform-trousers.

"Never make a princess wait."

*


End file.
